


To Screw in a Lightbulb

by sherlollyshipperalltheway



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Beach House, F/M, Misunderstandings, Sherlolly - Freeform, thrift stores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlollyshipperalltheway/pseuds/sherlollyshipperalltheway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock and Molly stay overnight at a beach house after a case, Sherlock tries to make a romantic gesture, but he ends up upsetting Molly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Screw in a Lightbulb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> This is for MizJoely. She gave me a prompt about swimming, and this is where the muse took me. Anything written in italics is Molly's thoughts.
> 
> I own nothing. Enjoy!

_8:00 AM_

“Ready to go, Molly?” asked Sherlock as he opened the passenger door on their rental car.

_Okay seriously, he is opening car doors for me now? He has GOT to be into me!_ “Yes Sherlock! Let’s go save the day.” She winked as she got into the car and buckled her seat belt.

They were on their way to Sussex to investigate a triple homicide that was puzzling all the detectives at Scotland Yard. Molly knew she was good at her job, but there were pathologists in Sussex and the lab work had definitely already been done on the murder victims. Nevertheless, Sherlock had invited her along with the excuse of “needing her help” and Molly had agreed.

Molly was convinced that Sherlock had a crush on her. These past few weeks he had been extremely touchy-feely (for Sherlock, at least) and he had even started giving her unsolicited compliments. Inviting her to accompany him to a beach cottage in Sussex for a case just gave her more to back up her opinion. She was excited to see how this weekend would turn out, but she was determined not to force herself on Sherlock and make him admit his feelings. She would follow his cues and if he just wanted this to be a platonic work trip, then so be it. (At least that’s what she told herself. In reality, if this went on for much longer she might end up yelling her feelings in his face and asking how he felt right then and there. But it hadn’t gotten that bad yet…Yet.)

They rode in silence, both thinking about what they weren’t thinking.

_4:30 PM_

The case turned out to be a classic “man kills wife’s three stepsisters because they stole his money” situation, and Sherlock had figured it out right away. However, he had kindly let Molly have all the time she wanted examining the crime scene, which seemed a little fishy to her. Usually when she accompanied him on a case, he only asked her to look at something if he really didn’t know the answer or wanted a second opinion. But today, he was all about sharing.

They had even taken a long break for lunch in the middle of the case, something Sherlock never did, just because Molly mentioned that she was hungry. Does all this mean he likes me? Like that? During the lunch she had repeatedly tried to find a way to weave her question into the conversation, but there never seemed to be a good moment. (And truth be told, Molly was afraid if she mentioned the strangeness of his behaviour, Sherlock might stop being so nice and return to his normal coarse ways.)

By four-thirty, the case was complete and Molly and Sherlock were on their way to the beach cottage. Molly knew she was going to be hungry soon, so she asked Sherlock, “So what do you want to do for dinner? I think I saw a cute diner a couple streets back.”

Sherlock smiled mysteriously. “Actually, I have some work to do.”

_What the hell??? Are we even going to eat?_

When they arrived at the cottage, Sherlock inspected the place and looked satisfied. Then he started turning on all the appliances and light bulbs. Molly frowned. Sherlock huffed. Finally in one of the hallways, a lightbulb didn’t turn on.

“Molly would you mind terribly going out to get a new lightbulb?“

“Um, sure I guess,” she replied, confused. “Where is the nearest place I can buy one—"

“It’s about twenty minutes away,” cut in Sherlock.

Molly cocked her head to the side. “Are you sure? Because I thought I saw a drugstore not two blocks from the beach…"

“YES! I AM POSITIVE! Sorry. What I meant was that I am positive that I would like you to be gone for forty minutes right now so I can do…something. Paperwork. It’s private paperwork. We can order takeaway when you get back, okay?”

_And just like that, gruff Sherlock is back. So much for romance. I am getting kicked out of my own little vacation._

Despite her anger, Molly knew where she wasn’t wanted so she got into the car and drove for a while. She ended up in a quaint little thrift shop about ten minutes away from the beach. Molly loved thrift shops. Going to thrift shops together was what she and her mother used to do all the time when she was a child. They still did it occasionally when her mother visited, but she was visiting less and less often now that she had moved to America. Moments after walking in, Molly found herself in the aisle of pantsuits and she shrank down to the ground and began to cry.

At first, she thought she was crying for her mother and how much she missed her, but then she realised that wasn’t the reason for her tears. No, she was happy for her mother and her new boyfriend. She was glad her mother had been able to recover from her father’s passing. This was something else. Something much more raw. _Oh my god, it’s Sherlock. I am FUCKING CRYING over Sherlock Holmes on the floor of a thrift shop instead of enjoying this night away from London._

This would not do. Molly picked herself up off the floor and marched back to the car. She drove as fast as she legally could (and maybe a bit over) until she was back at the beach house. She pulled the keys out of the ignition and waltzed back up to the cottage. When she reached the kitchen she cleared her throat to get Sherlock’s attention.

Sherlock turned around at the sound of Molly entering the kitchen and his face went white. He rushed over to her and tried to block her view of the rest of the room. “I thought I asked you to be gone for forty minutes,” he said.

“Well I didn’t want to be gone for forty minutes. I just wanted to enjoy my little holiday at this lovely beach house and not be bossed around by you."

Sherlock practically started flailing about. “No no no no no Molly! That isn’t what I meant at all. I didn’t mean to kick you out.” She glared at him. “Okay, I did kick you out, but only because I wanted to surprise you with a romantic dinner when you got back.” Realising what he had said, he clamped a hand over his mouth.

_I knew it! Wait is this for real?_ Molly’s head was spinning. “Are you serious? You have romantic feelings for me?"

She could see his walls falling down as he touched her face and replied, “Yes. I have romantic feelings for you, Molly.” His eyes darted about. “And I would love to keep discussing this, but I don’t want to burn our chicken, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Molly smiled and shivered. _Maybe we can go skinny dipping later and talk about out romantic feelings._


End file.
